by Leanne Banks
Luck was with them. A change in weather brought hot temperatures, although the night turned cool. Gannon’s condo oozed a combination of sophistication and comfort, and the view of the ocean nearly made Erika drool. His large balcony boasted chaise lounges ready for sunbathing or just vegging.
Gannon joined her on the balcony. “Get the lead out and change your clothes. It’s time for dinner.”
“Why should we leave?” she asked, gesturing at the view.
“Because I promised you a good time,” he told her and tugged her back inside the condo.
Erika changed into a simple black dress and took along a sweater. Gannon wore a black sweater that emphasized his shoulders and his pecs. Another view that could make her drool, Erika thought.
He took her to dinner at a trendy restaurant that overlooked the activity on Collins Avenue
and offered a view of the ocean. Afterward they went to Delano’s bar, where they served generous martinis at ridiculous prices. “Now you’re spoiling me,” she accused. “How am I going to go back to New York in January after this?”
“Don’t think about it. That’s a rule. No talk about going back until Sunday afternoon.”
“That could be dangerous,” she muttered. “This whole thing could be dangerous.”
“Why?”
She shook her head. “Too hard to explain. Since I have you here, though, I’d like to ask you some questions I didn’t have the nerve to ask you when we were involved last year.”
“Why couldn’t you ask me last year?”
“I was too awed by you. Terrified of offending you.”
“No more awe?” he asked with a lifted eyebrow.
“Quit looking for ego strokes. You get them all the time.”
“Not from you,” he said, dead serious.
As if he needed them from her. Her heart gave a bump. “You blew me away the first time I met you. You still make me…” She searched for words.
“Make you what?”
“Crazy, breathless.” She swallowed over a lump in her throat. “Lots of feelings, but don’t distract me. I want to know—what does a billionaire wish for?”
“Peace on earth,” he said without missing a beat.
She laughed and grabbed his hand, leaning across the table. “Personally, professionally.”
He sipped his martini. “The tough questions.”
“Uh-huh,” she said.
He was silent for a long moment. “I’m not dodging your question—”
“That’s good,” she interjected.
He tossed her another mocking, dark look. “But I don’t spend that much time thinking about what I want.”
“Because you already have it?”
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “I don’t spend a lot of time musing. I spend more time doing.”
“Well, if you were to muse, what would you want?”
“I haven’t thought about it much. I just assume that someday I’ll have a family. When my father retires, I’ll be promoted into his position if I don’t take another position at EPH before that happens.”
“Would you like to be CEO of the whole shebang?”
“There’s an appeal to having that kind of power,” he confessed. “The idea of having that kind of influence over the media is seductive. Think of the impact you could have worldwide.”
“Big responsibility, too,” she said.
“That’s why we check facts five times over on some articles. One wrong slip and four hundred people are killed in a country on the other side of the globe.”
“That’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you.”
“What?”
“You’re harder on yourself than you are on anyone else.”
He toyed with her fingers. “Always knew you were a little too sharp.”
“You’d rather be with someone not so quick?”
He lifted her fingers to his lips. “You’re the one who’s here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. So you’ve told me about your professional dreams. Still haven’t said much about your personal dreams except a vague marriage and family…sometime.”
“Oh, you’re making me think.” He groaned. “When I have time to think—and I stay busy enough to make sure that doesn’t occur too often—I realize there’s never a good time to try to develop a relationship the way I’d like.”
Her heart twisted, but she took a breath to keep her voice light. “On the down low?”
He nodded. “But take time to do normal things. Be friends. I have too high a profile to have a normal relationship. I feel like I have to rob Peter to pay Paul.”
She pulled her hand from his.
He met her gaze. “I obviously said something wrong.”
“It’s just that you feel so torn. I don’t like being a part of that.”
He shrugged. “So you screw up my head some. Yeah, it’s true. But being with you makes me feel good. When I’m with you in the office, I have a tough time keeping my hands off you—and I’m not just talking about sex. I want to touch your hand. I want to share an inside joke. If I do that too much, other people will see there’s something between us. That could cause problems for you and me. I sure as hell don’t want you going back to HomeStyle.”
“I won’t go back to HomeStyle as long as you keep your end of the bargain. Speaking of which, what’s happening with the baby contract?” she asked.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. He finished his martini. “Good point. I’ll make another call to my attorney first thing on Monday.” He waved to a waiter. “Pineapple martini for the lady,” he said to the server.
“I haven’t finished my first one,” she protested.
“Drink up.”
“You’re not trying to get me loaded, are you?” she asked, unable to keep from smiling.
“No, but I’ve gone along with your questions. Now you tell me. What does Miss Erika want professionally and personally, besides a baby?”
“I’m building my career to a place where I can have some flexibility.”
“The make-yourself-necessary-and-the-company-will-do-anything-to-keep-you philosophy. I’d say you’ve succeeded at that,” he said in a dry tone.
“Gosh, does that mean I should have asked for more money?” she joked.
“Keep going,” he said. “What about the TDH?”
“A man. A husband. I would have preferred to do the husband before the baby, but I didn’t anticipate any medical issues.”
“The medical problem,” he said. “Is it that bad?”
She bit her lip. “Bad enough to change my plans. I’ve even joined an organization for single mothers by choice. But I have to look on the bright side. My friends have already volunteered to be aunties,” she confided.
“You told them?”
“Yeah, during a four-martini evening.” She winced, remembering the hangover the next day.
“Four?” he echoed. “You’ve barely finished one.”
“Yeah, but these are so big I could swim in them.”
“So plying you with liquor is the secret to getting you to loosen your—” he deliberately paused “—tongue.”
She laughed at his naughty humor. “Plying me with four martinis is a sure path to a hangover the next morning. That was a crazy night out with the girls.”
“Did you tell them about your plan to get me under contract?”
“No,” she said with a frown. “They don’t even know that you and I were involved. Although they asked a lot of questions last year.”
“Why?”
“Because I was sad.”
He lifted his thumb to her lip. “No more of that.”
Gannon took Erika to a sybaritic club and had no problem dodging photographers since several starlets were more than eager to pose for the camera. It may have been wiser to move their little party back to his condo, but he’d never taken Erika dancing. The two martinis she’d nursed seemed to have lowered her inhibitions, and he wanted to tease a few s
ecrets out of her mouth before he got to her body.
Gannon knew that once he took her back to his condo he would want to take her straight to bed—and not to sleep.
She laughed as she was pushed against him on the crowded dance floor. “There’s nowhere to go,” she protested.
“I think it’s designed that way so you have to stay close to someone. Make sure it’s me,” he said, drawing her against him.
He dipped his head and drew in the subtle spicy scent of her perfume. “You smell great.”
“So do you,” she said. “Your aftershave makes me dizzy.”
“It does?” he murmured, sliding his hands over her hips. She undulated against him, making him reconsider his plan to stay at the club a little longer.
She nodded and licked her lips, then pressed her mouth against his. An illicit thrill ran through him.
“I love the way you taste. Love the way you feel. Love the way you think. Most of the time,” she added. “Love the way you talk.”
“The way I talk?”
“Your voice is very sexy.”
He swallowed a smile, wondering if two martinis had been a bit much for her.
She closed her eyes and looped her arms around the back of his neck. “But you’re stingy with your heart.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Or maybe it’s just me. Just when I’m ready to write you off as heartless, you do something like show up at the hospital the other day.” She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “You shouldn’t have done that. That kind of thing could make me fall in love with you.”
“Ah,” he said, thinking that he didn’t mind the thought of her being in love with him. Maybe he’d had too many martinis, too.
“That’s not a good thing.”
“Why not?”
“I did it before and it was horrible when you stopped seeing me.” She played with the back of his hair. “I probably shouldn’t be here, but you did that nice thing by showing up at the hospital and taking my breath away and making me do crazy things.”
“I kinda like being the man to take your breath away and make you do crazy things.”
“There are consequences,” she told him. “Can you handle the consequences?”
Her expression was so sexy and challenging, it made him so hard that he wondered if he would split the crotch of his slacks. “I think I can.”
“Then why are we still in public and not alone in your condo?”
Not needing a second suggestion, he whisked her out of the club and to his condo in no time. As soon as they stepped into the elevator, he took her mouth in a long French kiss that made him sweat.
The way she drew his tongue into her mouth and shimmied against him sent his heart rate skyrocketing. She slid her fingers into his hair, and the sensation of her touch on his scalp was oddly erotic.
Everything about her was erotic. The way she smelled, the way she moved, the way she tasted. He swallowed an oath and slid his hands up her thighs to cup her bottom, urging her against him to soothe the hard ache she caused.
“You make me—” She never finished the thought as she took his mouth again in an openmouthed kiss that robbed his breath.
He slipped his hands between her thighs, underneath her panties, and found her damp and swollen. It was the sexiest sensation, but he knew there was more.
“I make you what?” he managed.
She gasped as he stroked her.
“So hot,” she whispered.
She did the same for him. The elevator dinged the arrival to the penthouse and he urged her through the door.
She tugged at his sweater. He pulled her zipper down and shoved her dress down over her hips along with her little black panties. The urge to be inside her was like a raging fire.
He pulled off his sweater and she unfastened his slacks. He ditched his shoes and slacks and pulled her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her wetness taunting but not enfolding him.
In the back of his mind he remembered protection. For the first time in his life he wavered. She wanted a baby. In a way he’d never wanted before, he wanted to possess her, to mark her as his. An audacious, primitive thought.
He took a deep, not-so-steady breath and put her on the couch. “Back in a second,” he whispered.
He grabbed his slacks and the condom inside the pocket and returned to her but made himself wait to look at her. Her hair spilled over the couch with abandon. The stiff peaks of her breasts invited him like cherries on cream. And her thighs were spread open, revealing her swollen femininity.
“You have no idea how sexy you are,” he told her. “But I’m going to do my best to show you.”
“Another thing I love about you is that you’re an overachiever about everything you do.”
She made him want to live up to being her overachiever lover. He lowered his mouth to her breasts and inhaled her groans, slid his lips down to her belly but ton and lower still to take her into his mouth. She arched against him and he decided the taste of her arousal had to be the most addictive thing he’d ever experienced.
“Inside,” she whispered. “Inside.”
He pulled on the condom and pushed her legs farther apart, plunging inside. She moaned. He groaned.
“Be careful,” she told him as he sank into her moist, tight femininity and the deep turbulence of her eyes. “I don’t want to love you too much again.”
But he was a greedy man. He wanted her. Her body, her mind and her love. And he took everything she offered and gave her more than he’d planned.
Eleven
T he trouble with a woman like Erika, Gannon realized after they returned from South Beach, was that being with her was habit-forming. He wasn’t sure how she managed to be both comforting and stimulating, but she did it damn well.
Although he’d seen her that morning, his schedule had been too packed to get a chance to talk with her. Then he couldn’t turn down his mother’s impromptu invitation to a lunch that included his sister and brothers.
Despite his suggestion to make use of the executive dining room, his mother had preferred a café around the corner and indulged in small talk.
“Nice tan,” his mother said, smiling as she lifted her brows in silent question.
“Yeah,” his sister, Bridget, said. “It must be nice to be able to take time off for a trip to Florida in January.”
“You could, too, if you didn’t work for the female version of Attila the Hun,” Tag said, joking about their hardworking aunt Finola.
“You’ll be changing your tune when you report to her as the new CEO,” Bridget retorted.
“Remember who your father is,” Gannon said, feeling a sharp tug of competitiveness.
“It’s just starting,” Liam muttered. “We’ve got an en tire year of this.”
His mother lifted her hands and shook her head. “No arguments. This was supposed to be a nice lunch for a mother with her children.”
“Sorry, Mom,” Tag said.
“Back to Gannon’s tan,” Bridget said. “Take anyone with you?”
Gannon sipped his coffee. “No one I want to discuss.”
His mother met his gaze. “Hmm. Must mean you like her if she hasn’t shown up in the press.”
Karen Elliott might be known for her easygoing nature, but she was shrewd when it came to reading what was going on with her husband and children. Gannon studied her for a moment. He was reluctant to admit to himself that he’d been distracted for most of the meal thinking about Erika, but now that he looked at his mother, he noticed she seemed a little on edge. Her hands were knotted too tightly and at the moment her brows were furrowed.
“What’s up with you?”
She pushed her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. “Not much. The regular thing. Volunteer work, my reading club, visiting with Maeve.” She glanced at her watch. “As a matter of fact, I need to leave for a meeting. But I just wanted to let all of you know that I’m going into the hospital for some tests.”
/> Alarm shot through Gannon. “What?”
“Tests,” Tag echoed. “What tests?”
“I don’t want to make a big deal about it. It’s not un usual to take all kinds of medical tests at my age.”
Karen was fifty-four.
“But this isn’t routine, is it?” Liam asked.
His mother’s face looked determinedly neutral. “I’ve told you as much as I need to.”
“But, Mom,” Bridget said, “you can’t just drop this on us and not explain.”
“You would prefer that I not tell you at all?” Karen returned.
Tag cleared his throat. “No. Not at all.” He reached to cover his mother’s hand. “But you’re pretty important to us, so we want to know everything.”
She patted his hand and gave a little smile. “Well, all of you are very important to me, too. Now I really should go. Gannon, if you don’t mind, could you pay the bill?”
“No problem,” he said and stood as Tag helped her with her coat. He leaned toward her and hugged her.
“You know you can call me for anything.”
“Including grandchildren?”
He groaned. “I should have known you’d find a way to slip that in.”
“Don’t make me wait forever. ’Bye, darlings,” she said and kissed each of them before she left.
Silence fell over the four of them.
“This is weird,” Bridget said. “I’m worried.”
“She doesn’t want us to worry,” Liam said.
“What do you think it is?” Tag asked.
“I don’t know,” Gannon said.
“Has Dad said anything to you?” Tag asked.
“Not a word.”
“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Bridget said, and from the looks on his brothers’ faces and the knot in his own gut, Gannon sensed she was speaking for all of them.
Erika plowed her way through the work that had piled up during her absence on Friday. The afternoon wore into early evening before she took a break and stretched. A light knock sounded on her door and Gannon walked in.
Her heart immediately lifted and she rose from her chair. “It’s so good to see you,” she said, smiling at the sight of him.
“Same here,” he said, tugging her from behind her desk and into his arms. “Are you sure someone didn’t try to pack two days into this one?”
